


i can't believe (you didn't know?)

by cloudburst



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: (:, M/M, it's sara finding out abt their relationship, reyes isn't actually in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 06:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10633944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudburst/pseuds/cloudburst
Summary: Now, she just can't believe this shit.---Sara finds out: she missed more than she'd thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is different from what i usually write. i don't typically do a lot of dialogue or a singular scene so i'm a little nervous.

She counts the number of light freckles by his hairline, lightening as they ascend until they blend with the hue of his skin. The number is unquantifiable, it seems, there are too many—yet, she keeps on. She won't let her brother defeat her, even if he's doing so inadvertently. They're taking a moment of reprieve together, holding conversation, in her brother's quarters. Well, her brother is holding the conversation. Sara nods and hums noncommittally every few moments so he knows that she's at least _vaguely_ , even in the deepest recesses of her mind, listening to him. 

This is how they've always been, she thinks, from birth to now. He's going on, and she is thinking how her little brother is ever the dreamer. Except he's not just a dreamer anymore—he's a Pathfinder. He made a dream, and an idea born from desperation, a reality. Sometimes she thinks about how he accomplished everything without her. And sometimes that stings more than it should. 

She's still counting, her back to him, left hand tapping gently against the light colored countertop before she hears it. It starts as a low buzzing—not even loud enough to make any difference until it repeats itself. 

"... _Reyes Vidal_."

The buzzing ends at the conclusion of the sentence, but the only words Sara had heard were the name of Kadaran Collective trash. She assumes it's unimportant—squints a little to focus on her task at hand—still tapping on the counter as she counts ten more freckles. 

"Sara? Did you hear me?"

And _oh, fuck._ When does anything that her brother says ever demand a response? The hint is that it doesn't, but now she's stuck. So she turns around to face where her brother is leaning against the wall. She is unsure if she's imagining the uncomfortable break in his posture.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention." And her brother exhales, slightly exasperated, but he's not surprised—not really.

He pauses, teeth sinking into his lower lip. That _goddamn nervous tick of his,_ Sara thinks. And then he speaks, as if spurred on by the thought. "What do you know of Reyes Vidal?" It makes sense to Sara, then. Her brother's mention of Vidal was a question, not a statement; he's most likely planning a way to remove the man's control and regulation on the imports and exports of Kadara. It's smart—though she can't help but feel that many things about the situation are escaping her. 

So she thinks thoroughly about her response, for the whole of two seconds before taking a few strides in the direction of her brother—crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in that way she'd always been envious of their father for. "I know that he's trouble—"

And her brother cuts her off to say, "Is that all you know?" 

He sounds... _surprised?_ She thinks, but won't say it. There's no reason for him to be, so she shakes her head—speaking with her hands flailing as her brother so often does. 

"No, it's not. I admittedly wasn't briefed much about the situation on Kadara between comas, or after waking from the second." She flinches at mention of her incapacitation, but continues. "I know that Reyes Vidal is trouble for our outpost on Kadara, at least from what I've gathered. If he's controlling what goes in and what goes out—"

She breaks off, and her brother is looking at her in some form of disbelief. It's immediately difficult for her to recall a previous time that emotion has graced her brother's features—at least when pertaining to her. He hums his assent, and she continues at the nod of his head that seems to be begging her to continue. It's not as if she weren't going to anyways. 

"—anyways, he could potentially place a chokehold on our operations on Kadara. He's an exile," her brother nods, "he's dangerous," her brother nods, "and he's a threat to the Initiative." Her brother stares. 

Suddenly, his lips are moving—but there's that buzzing again. She's fighting off his words, counting the number of light freckles at his hairline as they _disappear, disappear, disappear._ There's that feeling of knowing less than the full truth. Sara doesn't like it. The buzzing— _bzzzzzzz._

"—not."

Sara blinks, and makes eye contact with him long enough to see that this too requires a response. So she once more is forced to question: "What?"

Her brother cocks his head in that annoying way of his, bit of hair falling across his eye before he returns to his normal—collected stance leaned against the wall. His voice is full of mirth. "Was that a what because you didn't hear me? Or a what because you didn't like what I had to say?"

Sara thinks a bit longer about her response this time—a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. She's not sure why she's smiling, but her brother's amusement has always been contagious, since they were small. "Pertaining to Vidal? Probably both." 

And in true fashion, her brother huffs out a laugh. "What am I going to do with you?" It's highly rhetorical obviously. Then a pause. " _I said_ , he's not. As in—" rubs one of his eyes with a fist, "—not a danger to us, to the outpost. He's not a danger to _me._ "

_Bzzzzzzzzz._

Now, she just can't believe this shit. 

"No offense, but what the fuck do you mean that he's, and I quote, _'not a danger to us?'_ " Her voice has gone a little shrill; and oops, it's an honest mistake. "According to reports he took out a woman you were _accompanying_ —doesn't get more dangerous than that, o' wise Pathfinder." She's probably going to regret the snark later, but right now it's a defense mechanism against the blood rushing to her head and the low buzzing in her ears. "Or how he's a smuggler, or how he's an exile, or—"

 _Bzzzzzzz._ That's him speaking.

"What the _fuck_ did you just say?" 

Her brother stares at her. 

"I know you heard that one, Sara." And she nods her head, of course she fucking did. 

"He's your—" Sara pauses, taking a moment to compose herself. She wouldn't say the situation had taken a turn for the worst, but it _had_ taken a turn _weird._ It's alarming to think about her Pathfinder brother with a bottom line murderer. She understands she's never met the man, but, really? So she continues. "—boyfriend?"

Now there is most certainly amusement in his voice. And regret. He looks at her, taking a step in her direction—placing his hands on the sides of her arms in a comforting fashion. "I would have thought someone already told you. That's why I was—" He drops his hands to his sides, looking to the ground with what seems to be regret. "—surprised, about your response." 

"I don't understand this." And she doesn't. It's not because she didn't know about her brother's sexual preference; it's because, why _Reyes Vidal_ , of all fucking people in Andromeda? "He'll end up hurting you. I don't like it."

She doesn't imagine the wistful look in her brother's eyes. She knows him too well. Sara is going to kick Reyes Vidal's ass. 

_Bzzzzz._

Her brother thinks of how to speak; he needs to tread carefully, now. He's always been good with emotion, but not necessarily the correct expression of it. "He has."

"So, why—" She begins, but is cut off by her brother offering her a sad smile and the formulation of more. 

"Please listen—" A pause, a whisper of noise in the hall—laughter that Sara wishes to be feeling. "He's hurt me, and I forgave him—I forgive him, and he forgives me—"

"You can't have done anything _too awful_ that makes him need to forgive _you_ —"

Her brother's exasperation is clear as he continues over the rest of her sentence. She sighs—agitation and worry. 

"Sara, _please._ Listen to me." So she tries to listen. She tries to understand. She does—try, that is.

"He cares about me, Sara. He's kind to me—makes me feel like I'm seventeen and more young and dumb than I am now and—" He cuts himself off. "I'm in love with him. And I haven't told _him_ that, but I'm telling you. This has been going on longer than you know and—"

"How long?" Panic grips her. She wasn't there for him. 

"—and I know I can trust him. I do trust him." 

She sighs. Her brother is determined to make her believe this. She will support him, but she will not like it. She won't. And she tells him so. 

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to."

"I just—" She pauses, walks forward to throw her arms around his shoulders in an embrace that she's already lost far too many of whilst in her coma. "—I worry about you, _baby bro_." But no matter the situation, she'll find time to tease him. 

Her brother snorts, pushing her away at the shoulders with a grin. He knows this is her attempt at making peace with the knowledge. It will eventually be alright; she may find herself at peace with the situation, as well. "Eight minutes, Sara."

"Better than negative eight minutes for you, _kid brother_." 

He laughs, reassuming his position leaned against the wall, relaxed stance intact. "If there's one thing I didn't miss, it's your whole, ' _when I was your age_ ' spiel."

"Don't lie," she begins—a small smile on her face now. "You missed it terribly."

Her brother takes a moment to respond—seems lost in his head. She gets worried at times like that, when he does it—when he seems simply gone. She momentarily wonders if Reyes Vidal notices it. Does her brother withdraw from him so frequently? Does he make it better in a way she cannot? For Reyes' and her brother's sake, she hopes so. 

His voice is quiet. "I did."

Sara can't take it—there's approximately 42 freckles on her brother's forehead, at his hairline, ascending, _ascending_ —and she can't take it. So she blurts the first thing that comes to her mind.

"So, does this make you the Queen of Kadara now?"

Then genuine laughter is coming from her brother; he's bursting at the seams—wide grin spread across his face. 

"You know—that's exactly what Vetra said."

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what you think!!


End file.
